Lifetimes
by no-rhyme-no-reason-in-love
Summary: Different names, different occupations, different friends, different lives, but one same love for more lifetimes than they'll ever know.
1. A Bar

**Important A/N:** Freaking Kubo! I'm so torn between wanting to hit him and praise him. I literally don't know what to do with my story anymore because the timeline in Hello Halcyon Days is way off, and I don't know if I should: (a) write it my way with my own timeline (It does not take Ichigo and Orihime three years to become a couple), (b) write it in a way that it fits the spoilers in the new novel (I have an idea, but it'll require some jumps in time), or (c) just stop writing in general (since we have a better idea on how they got together). All options seem plausible right now because Chapter 25 could lead down either path (a) or (b). I'd appreciate some feedback on this dilemma.

Anyways, I had some short one-shots typed up, and I thought I should just post them. I'll probably keep updating this when I get a new idea about Ichihime, so enjoy!

* * *

He looks at her. He doesn't know why. He just keeps staring at her. His friend tells him not to glare, but he is not glaring. There's just something about her. Something familiar. Something strange. Something compelling.

She stands from the stool she is sitting on, and she leans close to her friend. Every movement she makes pulls the attention of every male in the bar.

He is not an exception. He watches her closely.

Maybe too closely. Because although his eyes are fixated on her, he doesn't quite register that she is walking closer until she stops in front of him.

He finds her eyes quickly.

"Did I do something to offend you?" She asks him, and he blinks at her. Blinks sluggishly and stupidly.

"No…why?"

"You keep scowling at me," she explains, and he sees her arms cross over her chest before his eyes move up to her face again.

"I wasn't," he tries to deny, but he is not so sure that he wasn't. A scowl is his default expression, so it is entirely possible that he had been scowling. "Sorry." He apologizes for his face. "But have we met before?"

Her arms fall to her sides as her head tilts back. She laughs. "Is that a pick-up line?"

He flushes. "No! I'm not hitting on you!" Her laughter disappears, and he spots a hint of hurt in her eyes. "Not that I wouldn't. You're gorgeous." She blushes, and her eyes shine. "But I'm not judging you on your looks or anything like that," he babbles on, and she is laughing again. "Really, I'm not trying to pick you up," he insists.

She moves a strand of her hair behind her ear. "What a shame. I think I would've said yes to the scowling man."

She turns to leave. "Wait!"

And she does.

.

.

.

When he goes home, he goes home alone. But when his roommate asks him how his night was, he says his night was life-changing.


	2. Twenty Years

"Okay, interns. Who wants to present?"

She holds the clipboard out, waiting for it to be taken out of her hand. She doesn't have to wait long, and she uses her free hand to check her pager before stepping into the first patient's room.

She observes the intern who presents, but when she hears the diagnosis, her eyes stray toward the patient.

And her heart stops.

She pushes through until she stands next to the patient's side, and already, she can feel the tears pushing to escape. She can feel herself start to fall apart.

She mumbles that rounds are over, and she barely hears the interns leave the room. She could only hear her stumbling heart and ragged breathing.

"I've been trying to find a way to tell you. This just seemed the easiest," he says, and he smiles at her. He gives her that smile that she has seen since they were children. The smile that she has treasured in her mind and her heart. The smile which she wish to covet for her own.

She collapses next to him, cries over him, cradles his hand to her face as her life cracks.

"If I told you not to cry, would you listen?" He asks, and she shakes her head. His thumb tries to wipe the tears that won't stop. "Why would you? Never listened to me before, so why start now?"

She wants to laugh. She wants to argue with him. She wants to try to make this better, comfort him. And she wants and wants, but it's all for nothing because he is still on this bed, still dyi—

"I'll fix this. You'll be okay," she says, and she stands, ready to leave.

He grabs her wrists.

"You can't fix me this time," he tells her, and her head snaps away from him like he just slapped her, and he did. With his words, he slapped her.

"I can," she protests. "I can," she repeats. "Just let me try," she pleads as she pulls her wrists from his grip.

He doesn't let go. He just yanks her hard, and he pulls her to him until she is laying with him, her head tucked under his chin, and his arms wrapped around her. "Can't let you do it," he whispers. "I promised that I wouldn't let you fail at anything. Don't make me break my promise."

She is sobbing now. How dare he throw their childhood promise at her. How dare he try to stop her from trying to save him. How dare he…how dare he leave her.

"Still such a crybaby, huh?" He jokes, but she doesn't respond in the way that probably wants, so he just holds her tighter. "Don't cry to much over me, okay? When I go, just-"

"Stop! Please," she begs. She looks up at him. "Please, don't."

He sighs as he looks into her red-brimmed eyes. "You know, I'm not scared to die." She whimpers in anguish. "I'm just damn terrified to leave you."

No. No. No! She doesn't want to hear this. Not from him. Not now.

"Please, don't," she tries again.

"It's selfish to be saying all of this now, but I might not have another chance." She attempts to lower her head, but he grabs her face, making her look at him. "We've been friends since were kids. For twenty years, you were my best friend." His eyes close. "For twenty years, I've been a coward." He breathes deeply. "Because for twenty years, I've been in love with you."

She feels like she is breaking all over again. But it's when he opens his eyes, and a tear slides down his cheek when she realizes that she is not breaking. She is broken.

And when he kisses her, a kiss that has come too late, she realizes that this is not fair. Because she will never love anyone like she loves him.

No, she'll never love anyone but him.


	3. Muted Love

"Here you go!"

I glance up to see her. She is holding a basket of something.

I shake my head at her, and she pouts. "Come on, Mister. Just take it." Another shake of my head.

She sets the basket next to me. "You know, you could just say 'thank you' instead of refusing."

I frown at her, and she frowns back before a smile breaks across her face. "You win, Mister. I can never beat you at a staring contest."

We weren't playing, I want to tell her, but my mouth remains shut.

She suddenly bends down, her face too close to mine, and I shrink back from her. "Can I tell you a secret, Mister?" She looks to her left and then to her right. "Playing with you is my favorite part of the day."

I blink at her in surprise, and my lips part to say something to her, but no sounds come out. No sounds will ever come out.

She doesn't notice me trying to speak because her guard is pulling her into her car, and it makes sense why he wants to keep her away from me. A famous singer such as she should never be this close to a homeless mute.

Her car starts to drive off, but before she leaves, she rolls down the window and waves at me. "See you tomorrow, Mister!"

Once she is out of sight, I grab a piece of the bread that she brought for me. I take a small bite before standing up. I'm starving, but I continue to take small bites as I pick up the basket. I'm starving, but I give the basket of food to an old man who can't fend for himself anymore. I'm so hungry, but I give the wad of cash to a mother who has three mouths to feed and not enough income to sustain them, and although I'm faintish with hunger, I share the loaf of bread with the stray cats that have been abandoned by their owners and by society.

I walk back to the spot where I have met her so many months ago, and I sit and wait for her. Wait for her to get tired of me and my pride. Wait for her to stop showing up with her kindness. Wait for her to abandon me just like everybody else.

But she comes back the next day. Just like she has been doing since the day she met me. She never fails to show up and give me a care package of food and money.

She never fails to smile at me.

"Did you miss me, Mister?"

I shake my head.

"So mean~" She whines. "Well, that's okay. I like that about you." She puts the basket next to me, and she abruptly plops down on the other side of me. She is too close, so I scoot a bit away from her.

She pays no mind to me. She is pulling out a notebook and writing something down. She glances up at me and smiles. "I'm working on a new song, but I'm having trouble with the hook. Do you think you could help me?"

I shake my head.

"Too bad," she sings as she hands me the notebook. She leans close and points at a verse which has lots of words crossed out. "See? I'm totally blanking on how to write it. Any ideas?"

I'm uncomfortable with the close proximity. Uncomfortable with how she doesn't care about the way that I smell. Uncomfortable with the way that she treats me like a human being.

"Please, Mister. I just need a bit of help," she begs, and I scowl at her, and I try to tell her that I won't be helping her, but not even a squeak passes my throat.

Her eyes widen, and I snap my mouth shut. I wait for her to get up to leave, but she stays beside me. In fact, she grabs her notebook back and scribbles down some words before thrusting it back into my hands.

I scan the verse, and I grab the pen from her and change a sentence to better the flow. I show her the alteration, and she grins. She clears her throat and starts to sing the new addition to her song, and I listen carefully to the words. Listen to way her voice carries in the wind and wraps around me.

She stops singing, and I look at her. She looks stunned.

I tilt my head, curious to her weird reaction, and she laughs. "I'm sorry! It's just…I never seen you smile before."

She stares at me until her guard yanks her up and shuffles her into her car. Even with the harsh treatment, she still manages to roll down the window, smile at me, and wave goodbye.

I get up and pick up the basket, and I eat the first thing my hand comes across while I make my way to deliver the goods to the people who need it more than I do.

This pattern continues like it always does except she asks me for help with her songs more often. I only do it because she bugs me until I do. I only allow her to be this close to me because I'm afraid that if I move away from her that she'll stop giving me the baskets, but the baskets don't stop coming.

She does. One day, she just doesn't come. Instead, someone just drops off a basket for me and leaves without an explanation. I search through the basket, looking for a note or something, anything to tell me why she didn't come today, but there is nothing.

The next day, I wait for her, but she doesn't show up again. The day after, she doesn't stop by. She doesn't come the day after that, and it's when the sixth person drops the basket for me that I grab his wrist and try to ask him where she is at. But no words come out, and he rips his wrist from my grasp and runs away.

I keep waiting for her, growing angrier at her as each day passes without her visiting me.

Angrier and…

It must have been weeks since I've last seen her and heard her. I'm certain that she has finally had enough of me and that her lack of appearance means she is trying to tell me she's done. She's abandoned me.

So it comes as a surprise when late one night, I am shaken awake. "Mister! Pst! Mister!"

I open my eyes to see her hovering over me, and even in the dark, I see her smiling.

"Did you miss me, Mister?" She asks, and I can't lie to her. I can't lie to myself anymore.

I nod.

She looks surprised by my honesty, but it only lasts for a second before she grins. "I probably missed you more, though." Her head tilts down, and I feel her hand on mine. "You know, my record company threatened to drop me if I kept seeing you. They said that it was bad for my image."

I nod in understanding. It makes sense. She loves her career, so naturally, she chose her singing over me.

"But I didn't care. I told them that I wouldn't stop seeing you." She looks into my eyes. "My parents hired more security to keep me away from you, which is why I haven't been coming by. But I made sure that you would keep getting the baskets. I made sure that you were able to take care of that lady and her family and that old man and all those helpless people."

It's my turn to be surprised.

"I watched you one day." She squeezes my hand. "I saw you give my gifts to other people. I saw you give everything that you had to complete strangers." She sighs. "I would have helped them myself, but my parents have control over my finances, and well, they aren't…they aren't nice people, Mister." She lets go of my hand to grab my face. "Not like you, Mister. You are too kind for this world. You are too kind for me."

This is the closest that she has ever been to me, but I don't move back. I remain perfectly still as we stare at each other.

"Can I tell you a secret, Mister?" She whispers. "You reek."

The remark already has my face falling, but before it can completely fall, she leans in and kisses me. A quick peck that warms me in a way that I've never felt in my life.

"Good thing love doesn't have a nose, right, Mister?"


	4. Vocal Love

By popular demand, I wrote a sequel? Kind of? To "Muted Love." If it sucks, I'm sorry. Sequels, in my opinion, are never as good as the originals, so sue me! But please don't.

I'm working on HHD. I'm stuck at the 900 word threshold. I'm trying.

Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

Love? She loves me? _Me?_ It seems impossible, but it's true. She's never lied to me, and her eyes are screaming that she does love me. But how can this beautiful, sweet, angel of a person love me?

I don't deserve her love, but if she's offering her heart to me, I wouldn't question her. I wouldn't turn her away because I've been miserable without her. I would rather live this life of poverty than a life in riches if it meant that I could see her. Just a glimpse of her would do, but here she is, giving me something that I wouldn't give away, something that I wouldn't share with anyone.

It's selfish, but I try to say it back. I try and try, but no sounds come out. I can feel how desperate I am for her to hear me. I can feel the sadness start to take over when I realize that she never will, but before it can drag me under, she lays her forehead against mine, and her warm breath pushes against my lips.

"I can hear you, Mister. I can hear you loud and clear."

I swallow all the powerful emotions that are causing my throat to tighten and for my eyes to moisten. Of course, she can hear me. Because she doesn't listen with her ears. She listens with her heart.

I move my head slightly, and I give her a quick kiss of my own. When I pull back, her cheeks are red, and she's lightly touching her lips with her thumb.

"I wasn't ready!" She lightly complains, and I smile at her, at her cuteness. She pouts. "Stop teasing me!" My smile gets a bit bigger. "A-and stop smiling, Mister! My heart can't take it!"

I blink, and I laugh my silent laugh in surprise at her comment. She playfully glares. "Laugh it up, now, Mister, but when my heart gives out, you'll only have yourself to blame." I continue to laugh. "It's not fair." She puffs her cheeks. "My poor heart is working over time."

That sobers me up.

I grab her hand and lay it on my chest. I stare into her eyes as I try to tell her what only my heart can.

She understands because she smiles. "So our hearts will give out together. How romantic!"

I roll my eyes at her. "There's my grumpy Mister!" I scowl. She giggles until we hear footsteps coming closer to us. She sighs. "Boo~ They found me."

She stands up, and my hand quickly shoots out to grab hers. I try to pull her down. I don't want her to leave.

But she just pulls me up, and she interlace our hands together. "I don't wanna leave, either, but I have to." I frown, upset at the news. She looks up at my face as I stare down at her, and she smiles. "But I'm taking you with me."

Before I can respond, two men are rushing towards us. I try to step in front of her, but her free hand gently pushes on my shoulder, so I remain by her side.

They reach us, and they are commanding her to come with them, but she stands firm next to me.

"I'll go," she begins, "but only if he comes with me. You tell that to whoever sent you." Her hand squeezes mine. "And I'd do it quick because I have a concert tonight."

They both look irritated, and one of them takes a large, menacing step forward.

"Nuh-uh," she scolds. "You touch him, and I'll never go back. Tell them that, too."

"Miss, please, just come with us. Don't cause any more trouble," one of them pleads.

She smirks as she glances up at me. "They call me 'Miss.' And you're Mister. Isn't that funny?!" I nod slowly. In a way that tells her that it's not. She pouts again. "Well, it's more interesting funny than hah-hah funny," she defends herself.

"Miss!"

"Hmm?" She stares at the frustrated guards. "You know my terms. Some of them, anyways. I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere. Without. Him. Period."

One of the guards sighs and gets on his cell-phone while the other cracks his knuckles like he's itching to punch me. She sees this and becomes defensive, and she stands in front of me. I try to pull her back, but she doesn't move an inch.

"Alright. I understand." The guard on the phone ends the calls. "He can come."

I breathe a sigh of relief, but she remains rigid.

"And we won't touch him. You have our word."

With that, she relaxes. "Let's go, Mister!" She drags me along with her, and when we pass the guards, she sends them a glare that looks unnatural on her beautiful face. "Oh, if you hurt him, physically, mentally, or emotionally, I'll make sure you'll regret it. And you don't have to tell that to whoever was on the phone. I'll do it myself."

She then continues to pull on my hand while smiling at me like she didn't just make a threat. And all I can do is smile back at her as she leads me into her world, into a world that'll be filled with judgment and hardship. But I'm not scared. Because never in my life have I felt more alive or happy than I do right now. Right now, where I hold her tiny hand in mine and where my other holds her heart.

Where she keeps my heart, I don't know. But I know she has it. And I never want it back.


	5. She Protects

She meets him when they are both in junior high.

He's this scrawny looking boy. Scrawny, short, and feminine. Although she thinks he looks pretty, others don't share her opinion. She sees this in action one day when she's heading home.

He's surrounded by upperclassmen. They are shoving him around like he's some pinball in their machine of hate. And he just takes it. She doesn't.

She runs towards them, and she kicks one of the bullies in the back. They all face her, and she thinks she can handle them. Sure she'll get some licks of her own, but they'll be in worse states. They'll deserve it, too. Because they made that sweet looking boy cry.

She yells at him to run, but he stays perfectly still. Well, he did until one of the upperclassman steps closer to her, and then he falls to the ground and holds the bully's legs so he can't move.

She dubs this small boy an idiot.

One of the guys breaks from the circle to kick the auburn-haired boy, and she just loses it. She's just a tornado of fists, feet, and elbows. And teeth.

She's hit a couple of times, but all it does is make her bite even harder. And although she's focused on fighting, she is still able to see that the boy is fighting his own battle. But it's when she hears the boy's plea for them to leave her alone that she realizes he's fighting for her and not for himself.

She dubs this small boy selfless.

The bullies soon get tired of them, and they leave while promising to inflict more pain on the boy later. When his bulldog is not around.

She laughs as she calls them cowards. Butt-licking cowards, and she hears him laugh. It's quiet until it becomes louder and louder, and it borders on hysteria, and she's definitely worried about him.

But he looks at her with his light brown eyes, and she's not worried anymore.

He thanks her, and she reaches up to scratch her cheek with her forefinger as she tells him it's nothing. He replies that it's everything, and she feels her cheeks burn in embarrassment.

They become best friends after that.

They spend the next year and half together. Inseparable. She makes sure he is never bullied, and he makes sure she is never alone. And it's nice. She protects him, and he smiles that bright smile.

When it's the summer before they start high school, she goes on vacation. She doesn't like the idea of not seeing him every day, but she has to go. And he reassures her that he'll be fine.

They communicate once a day. Sometimes by phone calls, sometimes by text or email. She had wanted to do facetime, but he always protested, saying that he was starting to get ugly. She never believed him. There's no way that her cute friend could ever be ugly.

When she returns for the first day of class, she searches for him. She got a little bit taller, so she thinks that she'll be able to spot him easily. She's bigger than him after all, but she can't find him. She doesn't see her short friend.

She scowls, and she's about to call him on the phone when she feels arms wrap around her. Surprised, she elbows the pervert in the stomach, and said pervert lets her go. She turns and is about to give the stranger an earful about personal space and whatnot when he stands, clutching his stomach. And she sees that smile, and it's so different. He lost his baby fat, but his dimples are still there. His eyes are not as wide, but they still sparkle. And yes, this is her friend's smile. She would know it anywhere.

She dubs this boy hot.

With good reason, too. He's muscular in that skinny kind of way. Lean. And he's tall. Tall enough that she has to look up at him. And his hair grew out a bit, but it's still that weird color, and he's handsome.

She glares at him as she accuses him of lying to her. Ugly, my ass, she thinks. But the boy's response is to give an awkward chuckle in a deeper voice and insist that he is uglier.

She smacks him hard.

He doesn't need protection anymore. It seems high school will be good for him. The guys want to be friends with him, and the girls want to be his girlfriend. He's popular. Why wouldn't he be? He's good-looking, he's smart, he's athletic, and above else, he's kind. He's the kindest person she knows.

He doesn't need her, but he sticks to her. Yes, they have other friends, but she's the friend that he spends all his time with. She thinks it's because of loyalty, but he denies it. And she only admits to herself that she feels lucky to have him by her side. She's kind of rough and stubborn. She knows that, but he likes that about her.

Even if he doesn't need it, she still tries to protect him in ways that only she can think of. For instance, she makes sure that no girl (or the occasional guy) gets too close to him. She doesn't do this of her own volition. She does it for him because when she asked if he wanted to date, he said no. He said that if he just had her, he would never need anyone else.

She blushed hard when he told her that.

So she protects him in this small way, and he continues to give her that smile. And it's perfect. For her, at least. For him, she's not so sure because when she tells him that a boy asked her out, he loses his smile. And it's heartbreaking because all she wants is to protect his smile. And it's gone.

She asks what's wrong. He evades her question. She asks again. He asks if she accepted. She scoffs and tells him to not be an idiot.

He smiles. And she is happy.

It's in their junior year that something happens. He gets in a car accident.

She rushes to the hospital as soon as she hears.

When she opens the door to his room, she is greeted by the boy that she met five years ago. He looks nothing like his past self. He's grown into a man. He's strong in every way. And he's not crying. But she sees that boy because he's looking at her like she's some kind of goddess. Like she is his savior. He's looking at her in the same way he looked at her when she first saved him.

He says her name and he laughs when she yells at him and he smiles as she scowls and...

She dubs this boy the love of her life.


End file.
